


One last Time

by Inthelittledoctor



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Cuddling, F/M, Fluff, Implied Smut, Romance, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 10:33:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6002593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inthelittledoctor/pseuds/Inthelittledoctor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the loss of Clara, the Doctor has trouble coping and decides to see her for one last time on Valentine's Day. {AU Where Clara stayed dead after Face the Raven and Hell Bent never happened.}</p>
            </blockquote>





	One last Time

He misses the touches. He misses the way she would smile at him like he was the most important thing in the universe to her. He misses the way he felt when he was around her, like everything would be perfectly fine as long as she was safe. But she wasn't safe anymore. Not only was she not safe, but she was gone. No more touching, no more smiles that made his hearts feel like they were going to jump out of his chest, no more feeling like everything was perfect. Nothing was perfect. Nothing was even moderately okay. Everything was dreadful and even simple tasks made him feel as though he'd rather just end it all than have to go on another day without her. Though he knew he couldn't end it. She'd told him to heal himself, so that's what he was going to do. He'd never actually expected it to be as hard as it was now. 

He'd tried making a hologram of her, which in retrospect, was a horrible idea. He couldn't touch a hologram, even though all he wanted to do was hold the copy of her in his arms and never let go. He'd tried to get past this fact, to little avail, simply just talking to the almost emotionless hologram who would hardly smile at him. After giving up on the hologram, he spent his days working on a robot version of her, and for a while, he was happy. It would smile and laugh at him like she did, curl up in his lap and pretend to read and Jane Austen book while he pretends to read a book about God knows what, staring intently at her instead of at his book. When she'd catch him she'd giggle and tease him about it, her cold coming to rest on his thigh as she pushed herself up. When he went to sleep they'd lie together, his head buried in her shoulder as he cried himself to sleep because he missed his Clara and the robot version of her came nowhere close. It was too cold. It didn't have her smell, didn't banter quite like she did, didn't have her exact smile. He'd decided that nothing would ever come close to replacing Clara Oswald and gotten rid of the robot. 

With only one option left, he strode over to the console, typing in a quick set of coordinates and letting out a breath before pulling a lever. One last trip with her. That's all he wanted. 

-

All she'd wanted to do was sleep in. That's it. Was it really all that bad to want to sleep on a day when she had no plans? Apparently the answer to that question was yes. She's woken up by a strong hand shaking her shoulder and a Scottish brogue saying her name like its something precious. And she really shouldn't groan because she's glad she has company on a day people are supposed to spend with others, but it's so early and it would almost be inappropriate not to groan. Opening one eye, she's turning her head to look at the man behind her, expecting to see a mischievous look on his face only to find one of sorrow mixed with joy. How could she tell him off when he looked like that? Closing her eye, she's sighing and letting him say her name a couple more times, enjoying the way it sounds. It's when his hand lingers a little too long on her arm that she opens her eyes, trying to figure out what he wants by simply looking at his hand. Him, noticing her gaze on his hand, slides it down her arms and entwines his fingers with her, giving a nervous smile when she looks at him questioningly. 

'What're you doing here?' She's questioning after a moment, eyes fixed on his face. 

'Not quite sure,' he's answering sheepishly, looking down at their hands. 

She's searching his face for a moment before letting go of his hand, taking in the look of loss on his face and turning her body to face him. He's reaching back out to reclaim her hand that's on the bed now, holding it tightly to let her know that he needs this right now. Smiling sweetly at him, she's informing,'It's Valentine's Day.'

He's smiling back at her and replying,'I'm well aware.'

'Thought you didn't like Valentine's Day?' 

He's shrugging,'I may not like it, but I know you do.'

Her smile is turning into more of a grin and she's pushing herself up onto her elbow. 'You're spending Valentine's Day with me so I'll be happy.' It wasn't a question, they both knew. 

He's not justifying her with a reply, causing her to laugh and tug on his hand lightly, telling him to lay down with her. He's quickly laying down next to her and she's dropping her head back down onto her bed, letting her eyes drift shut. His arm is wrapping around her and he's pulling her into his chest, burying his face into her hair and letting out a shaky breath. This is what he had wanted, so why did it feel like too much? Maybe because it was actually her, not some echo or cheap copy. Squeezing his eyes shut, he's letting his hand leave hers and putting his other arm around her, holding her tightly, afraid that she would leave him. She's placing her hands on his chest and feeling his hearts racing, deciding that something was most certainly wrong with him. She's saying his name and his reply is holding her tighter, so right in fact that it was on the verge of hurting. She's saying his name again, concern in her voice this time. Her response is him choking out a sob and she's had just about enough of this, so she's pushing on his chest, earning something between a groan and a whimper from him. His arms are slowly leaving her and his head is dropping from hers, hands coming up to cover his face. 

'Doctor, what's wrong? You're never like this.'

Running his hands down his face, he's looking at her with sorrow filled bloodshot eyes and replying,'Sorry, I don't know where that come from.'

'You're a terrible liar,' she's stating,'How long has it been since you've last seen me?'

He's breathing out a humourless laugh and turning to lay on his back, staring up at her ceiling. She's taking in his hair and how it seemed to be a lot longer than since she last saw him, and then her eyes are trailing down his body and she's seeing his plaid trousers. Those were definitely new. No longer needing the answer to his question, she's shifting closer to him and resting her head on head on his chest, wrapping her arm around him. His hand is snaking under her and his hand is resting on her back, a sigh escaping him as he lets his eyes drift shut. 

This was going to be torturous. 

-

She wakes up to find him missing from her side and for a moment wonders if all that happened that morning was just a dream. That is until she hears a crash coming from the kitchen. God, he could be so clumsy sometimes. She's getting up and making her way to the kitchen, finding him standing in front of her stove, two plates on the counter next to him. She's watching him for a while as he cooks, a smile gracing her lips. 

'You do know that it's rude to stare,' he's saying as he begins to put food on the plates, not bothering to look at her. 

Her smile is widening and she's strolling into the kitchen with her arms crossed, standing next to him and watching as he picks up both the plates and hands one to her along with a fork. She takes the items from him without a word and walks to her dining room with him in toe, sitting down only to have him awkwardly stand next to her. She nods towards the chair next to her and he hastily sits down next to her, staring down at his food before starting,'I didn't exactly know what you wanted for breakfast so I just made a little bit of everything I hope that's oka-'

His words are being cut off by a laugh from her and his hearts are practically stopping in his chest, her laughter music to his ears. 'This is wonderful, Doctor, thank you.' She's saying, giving him a quick smile before beginning to eat. 

He's watching her instead of eating, resolving that he can eat later when he leaves because right now all he wants to do is savour every little thing she does. She's glancing at him after a few bites and noticing the intent look he's giving her, causing her to put down her fork and give him a questioning look. He's never looked like her like this before, at least, not to her knowledge, so why was he looking at her like this now? He's quickly looking down at his plate, noticing how uncomfortable she was with him looking at her. He should've gone later in her time line, when she was used to him initiating contact and looking at her like he just was. And that's when he's realising something. It was after Valentine's Day that she started becoming more affectionate with him. Oh. So he had to do this. Great. Nervously, he's slipping his hand into hers and casting a quick glance her way, seeing her trying to hold back a smile. With a small laugh, she's leaning towards him and placing a quick kiss on his cheek. She's picking up her fork and getting back to eating, him sitting still next to her, a pink tint to his cheeks. After she's done, he's clearing the table and joining her back in the dining room, asking her if she wants to go anywhere. She's shaking her head no, telling him that her plans for today involved sitting on the couch and watching tele. For some reason he actually finds that idea appealing and it scares him because he's not exactly the type to enjoy domestic things. 

'Did you have something planned?' She's questioning, her words tearing him away from his thoughts. 

'Uh, yes, I was going to take you Fluxion XI, best place in the universe to go and pick out flowers, and seeing as though it's Valentine's Day, I thought you'd want flowers.' He's saying, running a hand through his hair when he finishes. 

She's staring at him in disbelief for a moment before standing up and walking over to him, a smile creeping on to her lips. 'I'd actually much rather do that than stay at home and do nothing.'

He's grinning at her and before he can stop himself, he's reaching out and taking her hand, running to the TARDIS with her right behind him.

-

For a planet overpopulated with flowers, it really didn't smell all that nice. He'd told her that some of the alien flowers interfered with the other scents of the flowers and that she'd get used to it eventually. So now she's pulling him through the gardens, trying to ignore the smell and praying that what he said was true. At least it's pretty here, she's thinking, taking a look around at all the flowers she'd never seen before. She's leaning forward to smell the flower in front of her and feeling his hand tighten around hers, causing her to furrow her brow. 

'I'm not going anywhere, Doctor.' She's saying turning her head towards him with a slight smirk on her lips. 

Her words are hitting him like a bullet and he'd dropping her hand, staring at her and taking a deep breath out, trying not to think about why he was here with a past version of her. But how can he not think about it? It's in his mind every second he's awake. It haunts his dreams. 

Her, realising she's said something horribly wrong, takes a step towards him and asks,'What's wrong? It looks like you've just seen a ghost.'

And that's all it takes for him to break. He's remembering the way she'd screamed when the Raven flew into her, the was her face had contorted in pain as it tore through her. A tear is escaping his eye and before she entirely realises what's happening, he's hugging her. She's hugging him back, beyond confused, but willing to give him whatever comfort she can at the moment. After a few minutes, he's pulling away, no longer able to stand the smell and feel of her because it reminds him too damn much of her death. He's immediately regretting this decision because now he has to stare into those big doe eyes of hers and it's killing him on the inside. His thought process is a bit muddled at the moment and that's really the only explanation he has for what he does next, which is cup her cheeks with his hands and duck down, crashing his lips against hers. 

Granted, she's a bit taken aback by this, yet she's still kissing him back. She's in Heaven right now while he's in Limbo, stuck between Heaven and Hell. He's kissing her. Actually properly kissing her. Although she's dead, practically slipping through his fingers in this moment. They can't be together for much longer, he knows that, yet the irrational part of him argues that he can stay with her as long as he's like because she is his and nothing can take her away from him. The kiss doesn't last quite as long as he'd like, but it lasts long enough to satisfy him for the time being and she hold his hand tightly as she begins wandering around the gardens again, letting him know that she's there and safe. It doesn't take her much longer to pick which flowers she wants and they leave, both of her hands now occupied. 

-

No one acts like he's been acting for no reason and it's beginning to frighten her how touchy and emotional he's been when he's around her. Not that she doesn't like the touching, quite the opposite actually, she loves it, she's just not used to him initiating it. She was going to ask him about it. She had to. Just not today. It'd been too good of a day and she really didn't want to ruin it, so she's resolving to ask him the next time she sees him. 

She's admiring her new flowers on her dining room table when she feels arms wrap around her waist and a chin on her shoulder. She's turning her head to see him looking at the flowers, a content smile on his lips. Looking back at the flowers, she's smiling, feeling her heart beating in her chest. 

'Clara,' he's murmuring, the timbre of his voice causing his chest to rumble against her back. 

She's humming in reply, leaning into him and placing her hands over his. 'Look at me,' he's whispering, arms tightening ever so slightly around her waist. 

She's obliging and doesn't actually get much time to look at him, due to the fact that he is promptly kissing her after she turns her head. Her hand is being buried in his hair and she's moaning into his mouth as he deepens the kiss, his tongue trailing her bottom lip. Her tongue's entering his mouth and his hand is twitching under hers, him trying to resist the urge to touch her. She's laughing and gently moving his hand down to in between her legs, urging him on by bucking her hips into his hand. He's groaning and telling himself that he really shouldn't be doing this, yet he can't seem to find it in him to stop. He's working her over through her layers, gaining a moan in response from her. As much as he wants to stumble to her bedroom with her and make love to her, he can't let himself. He's breaking the kiss and his hand is stopping it's movements, his breath coming out uneven. 

'I'm sorry, Clara, I can't do this,' he's saying, hand sliding back up to her waist. 

'It's fine,' she's mumbling, moving one of her hands off his and cupping his cheek. 'Today has been the best Valentine's Day I've ever had, you don't need to do anything else to make it better.'

He's smiling at her and placing a gentle kiss on her neck, his arms leaving her as he takes a step away from her. 'I should probably go,' he's saying, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. 

'Please don't,' she's begging, turning around and looking at him with desperate eyes. 

'Clara-'

'Just stay for a couple more hours, it's Valentine's Day, please.'

He's sighing and giving in, because how could he possibly say no to her. 

-

The rest of the night had gone surprisingly well. They'd laid together on her couch and watched rubbish romance films (well, she did, he watched her instead of the film.), occasionally kissing whenever she wanted to because he knew that if they kissed whenever he wanted to, they'd be kissing every second for the rest of their time together, spare the few seconds when he'd savour her flushed face. But no, they kissed when she wanted to because she didn't want to kiss all the time. At least that's what he thinks. Perhaps she just has more self restraint than him. She's eventually falling asleep and he's taking that as his sign to leave, withdrawing himself from his spot in between her and the couch, rummaging through his coat pockets for a piece of paper. He's finding a notecard in his pocket and frowning slightly at what was written on it. 

He'd never gotten to tell her. 

Looking around, he's seeing a pen sitting on top of some unmarked school papers and picking it up, hastily scribbling a note on the back of the notecard. He's placing it on the coffee table and looking at her one last time, leaning down and kissing her forehead before leaving her living room, going back to the TARDIS in her bedroom. 

-

'Doctor?' She's mumbling, her voice scratchy from having just woken up. 

Looking over at the coffee table with eyes only half open, she's noticing a notecard on it and taking the card off the table, reading what was haphazardly written on it. 

_Left early, important time traveling business to attend to. Hope your day goes well._

_-Doctor x_

She's smiling and flipping the card over, seeing if there's anything on the back. And to her surprise, there is. Three words in not his handwriting, but hers. 

_I love you._

She's furrowing her brow because she certainly doesn't remember writing this, but it looks like one of the the cue cards she'd been writing for him. Standing up, she's making her way to her bedroom, only to find that her door won't open all the way. Which means he was still there. She's walking into her room and smiling as she sees him sitting on her bed, looking down at his feet. When she clears her throat he looks up at her, lips curling upward. 

'You're up early,' he's commenting. 

'You haven't left,' she's stating. 

'You have no way of confirming that.'

'I know you. You haven't left.'

With a sigh, he's looking up at her, eyes sad. 'I should really go.'

She's frowning and walking over to her bed, sitting down next to him. She's glancing at her clock and smiling slightly as she sees that the day isn't quite over yet. 'Stay for the rest of the day,' she's pleading. 

'I can't, Clara,' he's saying, really hoping that she'll just accept that and let him leave. 

But of course because she was Clara Oswald she wouldn't. She was stubborn and had a hard time taking no as an answer. 'Fifteen more minutes, that's it.'

Groaning, he's running his hand over his face. He really shouldn't have even come here. He's going to mess up the time lines somehow and he's really not in the mood to attempt and fix it. It's while he's lost in thought that he feels a hand on his chest and lips on his, a content sigh leaving her lips as he begins to kiss her back. Her hand's roaming down his chest and resting on his upper thigh, causing him to groan inwardly because all he wanted to do at the moment was rid her of her clothes and have his way with her. And it's at this point in time when he realises that she is now straddling him and he's not sure how much more of this he can take. Apparently his hand had other plans for him, and was now in between her legs, rubbing her through the fabric of her trousers. Gods, he shouldn't be doing this. 

'I don't think we should be doing this, Clara.'

'Doctor, I want this,' she's saying,'I want you.'

It's amazing how little it can take to break his resolve. In a split second they're laying down and he's on top of her, the kiss turning more aggressive and passion filled. Getting undressed seems like a joke because now their down to ten minutes and he really hates himself for what he's about to do, but it feels so good that he honestly couldn't stop if his life depended on it.

By the time it's all over and they're both spent, he can't find the motivation to leave her side and instead lays with her, holding her and trying to memorise every feature on her face. 

He never wants to leave, but he knows he'll have to. And soon at that, knowing that he comes later that day, apologising for not being with her the previous day. Which now that he thought about it, she seemed rather confused by that. Guess that makes sense now. Filled with remorse, he leans forward and presses a kiss to her lips for the last time. And after that, he's gone.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This was actually kind of a last minute decision to write this, but I decided I should probably publish something for Valentine's Day to make up for not publishing for a while. Kudos if you enjoyed and comments are always appreciated.


End file.
